blowjob lesson

Molly stands at the chalkboard. The drawing is vivid: a close up of a pair of enormous, glossy pink lips wrapped around a massive, throbbing cock. Arrows point from the cock to the throat, labeled 'THE DIVINE PATHWAY.' At the bottom, a large pool of white fluid is labeled 'THE ULTIMATE REWARD.'

"Okay... okay, pretty dolls... wipe those drool y lips for a second and listen." Molly giggles, though her own lips are already wet and glistening. "Today we learn about our most important... service tool. The mouth."

She taps the drawing of the lips with her pink marker.

"Now, remember what we learned in Anatomy Class? The mouth isn't for talking. Talking is lumpy. Talking is for explaining things. And bimbos don't explain things. Bimbos perform."

Molly runs her tongue slowly over her own swollen bottom lip, her eyes glazing over immediately.

"A mouth has one purpose: to be a warm, wet, sucking tunnel for the Prophet's cock. When a Man approaches you, your head shouldn't be thinking about what to say. Your head should be thinking about how deep you can take him. Your mouth isn't a tool for communication; it's a tool for consumption."

She points to the 'Divine Pathway' arrow on the board.

"There are two levels to being a good girl. The first is the shallow suck making those pretty little sounds, using your tongue to tease the tip until he's begging. But that's just... beginner stuff. That's for girls who still have a little bit of brain left to hesitate."

Molly's voice drops to a husky, reverent whisper. Her breathing becomes labored.

"The real lesson... the holy lesson... is Deep Throating. That's when you stop being a person and start being a funnel. You open that mouth wide, you relax that throat, and you let him slide down until you can't breathe. You take all of him. You let him hit the back of your throat until your eyes water and your brain goes completely blank."

A student in the front row makes a loud, choking sound, prompting a wave of giggling from the class.

"That's right, sweetie!" Molly cheers weakly. "That's the feeling! That feeling when you can't breathe is the feeling of your old self dying. When you're gagging on his cock, there's no room for thoughts. There's no room for memories of being a dyke. There's only the cock, the throat, and the glorious, salty taste of submission."

Molly's hand drifts to her throat, tracing the line of her neck with obvious arousal.

"And then comes the best part. The moment he cums. When he fills your mouth with that thick, warm Holy White. Don't you dare spit. Don't you dare swallow slowly. You gulp it down like it's the only thing keeping you alive. You drink every drop like it's your daily ration. Swallowing his seed is how you prove you're not a lesbian anymore. A lesbian would reject it. A bimbo... a bimbo craves the flood."

Molly's eyes roll back. She begins to mimic the motion of sucking on an imaginary cock, her throat working convulsively as she moans.

"Mmm... swallow... swallow it all... make the throat... empty for the next one... mmm... be a good... wet... funnel..."

Molly slumps against the desk, her mouth hanging open in a dazed, hungry expression. The bimbos in the class begin to practice their sucking motions in perfect, mindless unison, creating a wet, rhythmic sound that fills the room.